


Woodswarrior

by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals of Farthing Wood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foxes are curious, and none moreso than Varric - especially when the Woodswarrior comes to roost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Varric’s feet are light on the forest floor, twigs bending but not quite snapping. His tail swishes back and forth, his jaw aching from the weight of the carcass in his grip. The fox stops for a moment, considering his options in front of the large oak tree.

It had been an easy kill - the rabbits were usually smarter, quicker, but age had not been kind to this one. He had promised Daisy that he would only take from her kin’s warrens when he absolutely _had_ to, but… it had felt like something of a kindness. Now he was faced with more than he needed.

Still, he had a solution to that. Waste not, want not.

Tucking his back legs underneath him, he pins the kill between his front paws, tugging away the skin to reveal the bloodied meat beneath. Far more than he needs - enough for two or three days, and it would spoil regardless. But he knew there was one in the forest who would appreciate a free meal. The one they called the Woodswarrior.

Hawke had been the first to mention her - just before she left for the season, to find better hunting grounds. Another bird, she had said - an owl, dark and regal, who spoke little but saw much. Aveline had been the next to mention the mysterious protector, as she combed the riverbanks for a new stone to use. The Woodswarrior had saved the water-rats from a pike before Aveline could intervene - and she had not claimed any of them as tribute. Unheard of, even in these peaceful parts. Her whiskers had flicked approvingly before she swam off, the otter’s glossy fur red even in the water.

Varric had admired the owl, even then. Most predators had pacts with their prey, bonds of oath agreed generations ago. Yet she had chosen not to force the water-rats into such a pact, sparing them all despite what he imagined would be grave hunger after taking on a pike. So he had set aside some of his own meat, leaving it under the boughs of a tree he had heard she frequented. That had been half a moon ago, and he had continued the habit with each kill, without catching sight of the Woodswarrior.

_Until now_ , he realises, ears flicking up at the sound of approaching wings.

The owl lands gracefully on the branch above him, wings tucked into her sides with little ceremony.

“You,” she says. “You are the one leaving kills?”

Lips pull back over teeth, a wry sort of grin. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t eat much,” he deadpans.

“You are rather… small, as foxes go. I would have assumed you were just young, but your eyes are too careful for that.”

“You see a lot.”

She clicks her beak, a hint of mirth. “Quite.”

“I’m Varric,” he offers.

“Cassandra. Thank you. For the offerings. If there is anything I can do -”

His tail swishes over the dry leaves. “Don’t worry about it. Just being nice to the neighbours. Like you.” He turns to head back -

“Wait!”

Tilting his head up, he regards her. “Yeah?”

“Go around the old briars. The hunters are setting out bait, to see if there is anything worth chasing this season.”

He frowns, ear flicking in irritation. “I haven’t smelled -”

“Because you are _here_ ,” she points out, staring through the trees. “When you are downwind, you will see as I do.”

He mulls this over, before circling the tree. “Thanks, Seeker.”

She ruffles her wings. “Cassandra,” she corrects. “Many have given me a title, but I do not wish to -”

“Seeker,” he says, grinning. “Suits you better. Anyway, you didn’t have to. So, uh. Thanks.”

She regards him with something of a smile. “It is… good. To have neighbours. I would like to keep the ones I have.”

“You’re sticking around, then?”

“I plan to.”

“Good.” He flicks his tail, before heading off towards the old briars. “Good,” he repeats under his breath, not quite sure _why_.


	2. Chapter 2

It is another moon until he sees the Seeker again.

The hunters have not returned, but Varric knows they will when the air gets warmer. Still, the humans have been seen around - the herons were left ruffled after their nests were disturbed, and the Iron Lady found herself sporting some strange material on her leg.

“What is it?” he had asked.

“I believe it is a means of identification, but I cannot be sure. They did not keep me for long.” She had kicked the offending leg out, managing to make the move look graceful. “Perhaps they are those humans - the ones who want to monitor us and keep us alive.”

Varric had privately disagreed. Even those humans had no interest in his kind, only the birds and the smaller animals. Foxes were a menace, as far as humans were concerned.

Still, within the moon he grows concerned about the absence of the Seeker - his gifts were spoiling, which meant she truly was abroad, and he found himself worrying about where or why. She was a private creature, of course, but… something rankled.

It is another moon, and the awful sound of her distress, until he sees the Seeker again.

“Varric - Varric, _please_ -”

His ears prick up as he approaches her tree, eyes narrowing. “Seeker? What are you doing down here?”

Her feathers are a mess, her eyes wide, but it is the blood on her beak and the limp of her leg that raises his hackles.

“Who did this to you?” he growls.

“I did,” she says mournfully, offering out her leg - and revealing the loop of strange human material around it. “I cannot remove it. I have - I have _tried_ , but my beak is not strong enough.”

He tilts his head sympathetically. “Ah, Seeker. The humans got you?”

“They caught me in some strange material. I remember very little until today, when I was released. Marked in this way… I cannot be a silent hunter with this on my leg. Varric, please, I need you to - to remove the problem.” She looks away, holding her leg up awkwardly. “Take my leg.”

He stares at her. “What?”

“My leg, Varric. _Please_.”

“Cassandra, I…”

She clicks her beak mournfully. “I - I can adapt, I am strong, but… to be so heinously marked, so _audibly_ , I - I would rather -”

_Click_.

The material drops to the floor, broken in two within his jaws, and Varric pulls back only slightly, tilting his head as he licks softly at the scratches she had inflicted on herself in her own attempts to remove it.

She stares down at him. “Oh.”

“Sorry they got you,” he says quietly. “But at least they don’t want to kill you.” Pulling away, he offers a small grin. “Keep the leg. Suits you.”

She blinks, hooting quietly as she tests her weight on her leg, before hopping forward and nuzzling his cheek for a moment before retreating. “Thank you.” She clicks again, happier now. “It seems I am always thanking you. Perhaps one day I can repay these debts.”

He ducks his head, turning away. “Yeah, yeah. Eat, Seeker. I’ll catch you around.”

“Wait!”

His tail curls around his back legs, holding himself still. He needs to leave, needs to _breathe_ \- the feel of her beak against his fur had stolen that from him, somehow.

Still, he stops for her. “Yeah?”

“Next time, will you - will you eat with me?”

An ear flicks. “Uh.”

“I - you do not have to, I just -”

“No, I’d… I’d like that.” He swishes his tail. “See you in a few nights.”

“Until then.”

Varric chatters all the way back to his den, a gleeful noise that he cannot contain.


	3. Chapter 3

The moon waxes and wanes, and winter is forgiving, the ice thin on the ground as spring begins to thaw what snow had fallen.

Cassandra’s leg heals well, and it is not long before she is the one bringing kills to their meetings, proud and regal whenever Varric compliments her technique. He tentatively suggests that they hunt together one night, somewhat surprised when she agrees with gusto.

“Should we perhaps head to the meadows beyond the trees? We have no pacts there, and I will not lose sight of you -”

He grins. “Sounds like a challenge, Seeker.”

She ruffles her feathers, eyes beady. “Only if you make it one, fox,” she retorts, and he chatters with laughter. “My eyes are second to none, and you are not as fast as you think you are.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he drawls, his tail curling around her wings slowly. “I’ve lived this long, after all.”

She puffs up her chest, flustered, and he pulls back his wayward tail -

“You do not have to - I mean, if it is comfortable -”

He ducks his head slightly. “Not like you to hesitate, is all. I thought -”

“It is just… new.” She clicks. “This bond between us, it is new, and strange, but good.”

Varric feels a warmth in his chest. It was new and strange and good, and it was named. _Acknowledged_. He was rather pleased with that more than anything.

He shifts his weight, front paws moving slightly. “You will tell me if -”

“Yes. Of course, Varric. And you?”

“Not much you can do to put me off, Seeker,” he chatters, circling in his spot before settling next to her again. “I like you.”

She preens as his tail curls around her once more. “Good,” she says simply. “Then you will not mind when you lose to me on our hunt.”

He chatters again as she nuzzles his cheek, content to lose the point - for now.

The hunt ends up being quite the spectacle - Daisy’s family watch in terrified awe from the safety of the treeline as Varric darts amongst the long grass and Cassandra hovers above the trees before swooping down majestically. It was a fair contest, her eyes against his survival instincts, and though their prey escapes unharmed he is quite sure he has never had so much fun in his entire life.

Their showboating comes to a head when she grabs his tail and he screeches, an ungainly noise that has the rabbits laughing hysterically. She lands next to him, looking contrite.

“I am sorry, my dear fox,” she says, “are you hurt?”

“Only my pride,” he grouses, rubbing his snout against her wing. “Not my fault I’ve no cover out here.”

She clicks her beak merrily. “You think you would have the advantage in the trees?”

“I know I would.”

“A wager?” She tilts her head. “Loser has to provide the next season’s kills.”

“Deal,” he chatters, circling her twice before padding towards the treeline. “Catch me if you can, Seeker.”

“I shall grant you a head start,” she says teasingly. “You will need it.”

He chatters, before slipping into the undergrowth.

The bush is dense, but at the familiar clearing where Daisy’s pact had been made, he falters. He had choices - the bracken, sparse but unfamiliar to the Seeker, or the dense cover of the predator’s corridor. She would expect that. Only a fool would break cover against an owl, after all.

Only a foolish fox who knew the land better, he thinks, lips curling back over his teeth. On the far side of the bracken lay the waters of the herons, and they owed him a favour or three. He could easily lose her there.

His shoulders hunch, before he moves quickly and silently through the bracken. He does not realise that it is too quiet around him. He does not realise that the forest floor has been disturbed. He does not feel the metal plate under his foot until it is too late.

_**Snap**._

All of the air in Varric’s body leaves in one twisted howl, the pain blinding him for a moment as he tries to free himself from the trap. His leg screams with the effort, and though it hurts more than anything he has suffered, though he cannot gain any purchase to free himself, still his body urges him to flee.

Foolish fox, a small part of his brain thinks. Only a foolish fox gets caught by the hunters, that he had been taught since his youth. In his desire to prove his worth in her eyes, he had been caught out. The memory of his brother gnawing his leg off comes unbidden, and Varric lets out a soft cry.

“Seeker - Seeker, _help_ -”

The night is quiet, the rustle of leaves distant, and Varric feels the sudden weight of being utterly alone.


	4. Chapter 4

It feels like a lifetime. He is sure it could not be that long, was probably only a moment, but it _feels_ like a lifetime.

“Varric? Varric!”

She swoops down, crashing into the low bushes with little elegance, flapping as she scrambles to his side.

“Hurts - it hurts -” he whimpers, teeth bared as he trembles.

Her eyes tell him just how bad it is. “Oh, Varric - please, do not move, I have seen such terrible deaths from struggling.”

“Br-brother - he died,” he tries to explain haltingly. “Lost his l-leg. S-sent him m-mad.” He paws at the dirt. “Don’t - don’t let m-me - don’t want t-to go that w-way -”

“You are not going to die, Varric, I promise. Not here, not now. I will fetch help. The badgers will be able to -”

There is a cracking noise behind her, and Varric’s hair stands on end. “Humans,” he hisses. “Hunters. They’ll kill you, Seeker. Get away.” At her stricken look, he snaps at her ankles. “Away!”

She flaps, shocked, before taking flight into the darkness. Varric snaps again, the dread fear making his temper short. Such a stupid death, to be taken by the hunters and toyed with until the dogs caught him. Stupid, stupid death. He snaps again, and the hunters laugh, their own strange chatter that terrifies him.

One of them reaches to the trap, and for a brief moment Varric thinks he can injure him, but the metal slides down his leg and the pain is blinding -

And then he is bundled into a strange box, all hard surfaces and mesh, and he curls around himself, licking at his leg with a whimper in the back of his throat. The hunters talk in their confusing words, gruff voices and calloused hands.

He is going to die. He is going to die in a matter of days.

It is awful, Varric realises, knowing that.

Outside the box, a shrill hoot. He closes his eyes, thinking of her.

And then something unexpected happens. A voice, a new human voice - a woman. He does not understand much of the human language, but the woman is angry. Words that make no sense to him are shouted - conservation, protected, police - and Varric feels the box jostle, letting out a whine as his leg thrums with pain.

He should not have snapped at the Seeker. He will die knowing that his last words were regrettable - even if it had probably saved her life, he would not want her to remember him like that.

The box sways slowly, the voices distant now.

Would she even remember him, come the summer?

*

He wakes, he is fed, he sleeps. His leg is a dull ache.

Varric does not remember much of this time.

*

The box jostles, and Varric awakens to a familiar scent.

The forest?

The mesh door opens slowly, and Varric hesitates for a moment before sticking his snout out. The humans were still nearby, but the treeline was close - he could make a break for it, even with his leg still healing, and outrun them. Still, his first step is tentative, as if the ground might snap his leg once more.

It does not.

He scampers out of the box towards the trees, back leg hopping every other step, and with each movement he feels the fear ebbing away. At the entrance to the forest, he stills, turning to watch the humans for a moment. The woman picks up the box, her face smiling as she in turn watches him.

Varric had forgotten, in truth, that not all humans were hunters.

He offers a short yap, before slipping into the undergrowth, getting his bearings. He was close to the warrens, which meant that the ponds were a little further that way…

He makes a left, pace slow but steady as he travels through the bush, the full moon lighting his way. His leg would heal well, he could feel that much, and the humans had kept him healthy enough. Perhaps they had stopped the madness that his brother had suffered, too. He certainly did not feel mad.

Varric slows as he approaches the old oak tree, eyes looking up to the branches for a familiar silhouette.

Cassandra is high up, hooting a mournful melody, wings low even from this perspective. He feels a pang of sorrow as she sings. Had she thought him dead? That would not do at all. Stepping forward, he throws out another yap, softer this time.

Her back stiffens, head swivelling round to find him. “Varric?”

He grins up at her. “Miss me?”

With a cry, she swoops down to the forest floor, scurrying over to him and nuzzling his cheek. “Oh! Oh, you are alright, I was so worried -”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He nudges her back slightly, tail flicking as he settles next to her. “Saved my life, you know. My very own Woodswarrior. If you hadn’t found those humans -”

“They had to be told! This forest is theirs, you know. The hunters are not allowed in at all.” She puffs up her chest. “They were so angry, they have been building fences for nights and nights now. All the way around our lands.”

He stares. “No hunters? Ever?”

She clicks. “That is their rule.” Her eyes soften. “You will be safe, Varric. Always.”

He considers this for a long moment, before letting out a chatter. “Shit. That’s… that’s _wild_.”

She shuffles closer to him. “I am glad you are alright,” she says softly. “I thought - when they did not bring you back, I thought perhaps -”

“Ah, Seeker,” he chatters, tail curling around her, “you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She hoots a soft laugh, head resting against his, and Varric basks in the warmth of her happiness, content.


End file.
